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Welcome to The Curmudgeon’s lair

Welcome to my curmudgeondom. As you’ll soon learn, your reactions to my missives here are likely to range from fear to loathing to tears to outright rage—and I just might even evoke from you an occasional sober nod or two.

If you see a posting you like and wish to share it with others, by all means feel free to do so. I'd prefer that you send the link to your friends, but you're also welcome to reproduce anything here—as long as you retain my identity on the document. If you have a web site of your own and wish to post a link to this blog (or to a specific post), again, feel free to do so.

The purpose of this blog is simple: to provide me a vehicle for sounding-off on whatever topic suits me at the moment. While there’s sure to be no shortage of politically-oriented palaver here, it is by no means all (nor necessarily even most) of what will be proffered to your discerning mind. You’ll also find that my personal politics, ethics, morals, and standards are pretty much “all over the map” (according to my mother-in-law)—so, don’t be surprised to see rants regarding, say, the interference of churches in politics, politically-correct anything, “nanny” laws, taxes, the United Nations, Congress, the Commissioner of Baseball, the State of Ohio’s speed limits, steroids, Jesse Jackson, the “mainstream” media, ultra-liberals, ultra-conservatives, the price of cigarettes, Obamarxism, regulating sales of alcohol, gasoline price manipulation, Muslim foot baths, illegal immigration, laws banning the sale of adult sex toys, cell phones, heavy-handed cops, meddlesome politicians, Hillary, Billary, our all-but-self-proclaimed uncrowned Queen Nancy, “W”, eminent domain, freedom of speech, and the designated hitter all in succession. It is, as I said, my curmudgeondom — and I have the credentials and bona fides to lay claim to the title of The Curmudgeon. So, there.

Some of the postings you'll encounter may seem familiar—especially to those who know me personally. By way of explanation… I once had an ongoing relationship with a local newspaper, and had a number of published opinion pieces—some of which may be posted here. My arrangement was for a feature entitled An Opposing View; given that the editorial staff had a generally liberal, left-of-center view, it stands to reason that my "opposing" view would generally be perceived as coming from the right (in more ways than one, in my own humble opinion). These posts will be annotated as having been previously published.

Comments, of course, are always welcome. You may agree or disagree with me. Doesn’t matter. Of course, I reserve the right to completely ignore you — but, feel free to let your feelings be known, anyway. And if you don't want to comment directly here, my e-mail address is: jimseeber@gmail.com .

Oh, and…yes, I can spell. That "Write-wing" is only a play on words. So, there. Again.

“Merry Christmas.” (Yes, really.)

It’s a harmless, time-honored expression. You got a problem with that?

In an earlier entry, I ranted thusly:

Saying “Merry Christmas” is a seasonal greeting. Christmas is, itself, observed in the United States as a traditional holiday—not a religious holiday. That some also link it to the birth of Jesus should be of no real consequence (and they’re probably a few months off, anyway), as it’s been suggested that the arbitrary designation of December 25th to commemorate Jesus’ birth was deliberately intended to coincide with the winter solstice and the Roman festival known as “Saturnalia”. People should be no more offended by hearing “Merry Christmas” than they would be if someone handed them candy and hard-boiled eggs and said “Happy Easter.” And that thing’s called a “Christmas tree”—not a “holiday tree.” Raising a fuss about that just smacks of political correctness taken entirely too far (a rapidly growing –finally!– issue in many areas of concern, by the way.) Does the expression “Yuletide Greetings” offend you? It’s no less “religious” than “Merry Christmas”, inasmuch as “Yule” initially referred to a pagan festival—another of many traditional winter festivals of various names observed in cultures around the world for hundreds (if not thousands) of years.

Now, being a reasonable guy, I many years ago began substituting expressions like “Happy Holidays” in the belief that “Merry Christmas” somehow implied other meanings that some might find offensive. (In other words, I bought into the political-correctness argument…though we didn’t call it that back then.)

This was back when the argument was first being advanced that we all have an absolute right to never be offended in any way by anything.

Kiss that good-bye. No more.

I’ve noticed the re-emergence in recent years of the use of traditional greetings by the population at large—even as retailers and businesses seem bent on eradicating their use. Whether this represents a rebellion against the political-correctness movement is uncertain.

Whatever it may suggest, I like it.

So do a lot of other people.

A few years ago, I very deliberately adopted a specific way of concluding business with those I encountered while on the road. For example, after getting unloaded and settling the matter of bills-of-lading, I’d tell the shipping clerk: “Okay, we’re good, then? Alright, have a good day—and Merry Christmas to you.”

You know what? People reacted to that. Their faces would light up. They’d enthusiastically respond: “And Merry Christmas to you, too—and get home safe.”

I’ve thought recently about an interesting encounter many years ago in Korea. The remote site the Army had assigned me to was located near a Buddhist temple, and a few of the priests came to call a day or two before Christmas. I found myself engaged in light conversation with one of them, and couldn’t help pointing out to him the irony of the situation (Buddhist priests in Korea joining in the observance of what many GI’s also regard as the day marking Christ’s birth)—which, of course, wasn’t lost on him, either. He noted, though, that while they didn’t regard Jesus the same way that Christians do, they did acknowledge him as a great man whose teachings were nonetheless compatible with many of their own beliefs; besides, the priests viewed us as visitors in their land, and maintained that they would be poor hosts if they didn’t at least note the occasion. Moreover, he emphasized the universal “peace on Earth, goodwill toward men” view as the central theme for the holiday, anyway—which resonated well with their own beliefs.

And he had no qualms whatsoever about bidding me a warm “Merry Christmas” when we finally parted company.

Sorry, but I don’t see anything offensive about Santa Claus, Jingle Bells, or reading ‘Twas the Night Before Christmas to kids. If the strains of Nat “King” Cole crooning about chestnuts roasting over an open fire offends you, you have a problem. While I don’t buy into the “He’s the reason for the season” and “Keep Christ in Christmas” arguments, I don’t find such missives offensive, either; each to his own. As noted above, Christmas is a traditional holiday, and I leave it to each individual to take from it what he or she may. I have no feeling about Nativity scenes one way or the other; as far as I’m concerned, if people want to have them, they’re welcome to it. Regardless of one’s religious beliefs, the argument could be made that the presence of such displays is likewise traditional. While I’m more partial to Here We Come a-Wassailing, I’ll freely confess that hearing Carol of the Bells also carries a certain significance. Probably the last place anyone would expect to find me this time of year is a church—yet I’ll also admit that passing by a church alive with a choir singing familiar carols also puts me in the holiday mood; whether one embraces similar beliefs is irrelevant. Again, it’s up to each of us to take from all this what we will.

At the conclusion of a road trip not so long ago (a particularly arduous one, it should be noted), I’d just dropped a trailer and hooked another to take on the final short leg of my journey home—trying to make it home on Christmas Eve. The guy in charge came over and handed me my paperwork (oh, and, by the way…he’d done me a considerable favor,which served to save time and to make my job easier). Tired, cold, hungry, and anxious to get home, I turned to leave—then stopped. I removed my glove and extended my right hand. “Thank-you, brother—and a Merry Christmas to you.”

He’d been about to climb into the cab of his yard tractor, but stopped and grasped my hand firmly. “Merry Christmas, driver. Be safe out there.” The firmness of his handshake, his eyes, and his voice all revealed an unmistakable sincerity.

At such moments, I find that I’m suddenly no longer quite so cold or tired or hungry. In fact, I feel pretty damned good.

So do most others, I suspect.

And with that, I freely, happily, and unapologetically bid you all a Merry Christmas.